When the plot-skips players into the game world

"That's not necessarily true, Detective Young Master."

Aiwass's lips curled slightly upward as he responded in a low voice, "Is it really alright for you not to be peddling newspapers to us?"

The boy with auburn curls and a face full of fine freckles, slender and small, looking only seven or eight years old... must be Sherlock.

Aiwass had easily recognized Sherlock's identity as soon as he got out of the car.

Because Sherlock hadn't hidden himself at all.

He hadn't even tried to properly play his role.

As a newsboy, he wasn't bustling about selling his newspapers. Instead, he stood poised and silent in the shade, surveying every passerby with his sharp and somber gaze.

His look was like a cold, sharp blade, making passersby noticeably uncomfortable. Several cast surprised and wary glances his way, only letting down their guard slightly when they saw it was just a dark-looking child.

"Fox, you are clever... but you must be new, right?"

The boy let out a cold, disdainful laugh, "Let me teach you something. In most cases, choosing not to play your role doesn't matter."

"Although 'playing a role' is a necessary task, the standard for failure is not whether you fail at playing the role but whether you are questioned and exposed."

"I am just a newsboy, even if it is strange for me to stand here motionless, but who is going to come out and question me 'you don't seem like a real newsboy'? No one will pay attention to me... because I am insignificant."

"I see..."

Aiwass mused, his face breaking into a warm, bright smile, "Does that mean, as long as I take out anyone who might question me first—if I make sure they can't speak, I needn't worry about being exposed?"

"Hm, that's right. But with your ability, you probably can't do it,"

the detective Sherlock, who had arrived in the form of a little boy, said, his words neither influenced by Aiwass's sinister and dangerous tone nor his own calm analysis, "The old gentleman must have done so."

"He was the first to arrive, which means he is also an Avalonian. Since we are unable to exchange information with each other and the mission requires us to head to Execution Square, we should be able to deduce from the mission's hint to 'prepare for battle,' that our current common goal is 'to acquire weapons.' He would have then associated the most effective way to acquire weapons—'black market trading'—with the Pelican Bar, just mentioned in the newspapers."

"Moreover, by putting himself in others' shoes, he would have realized others would also need weapons, thus they could think of 'black market' as well—and infer that other people might come to the Pelican Bar. Hence, we could gather here. Compared to 'weapons,' teammates are obviously more valuable. No matter if he is on the first or second level, he would make his way to the Pelican Bar as soon as possible. And this place would be on the route."

"But 'Bone Sculptor' didn't come here."

"Right. This indicates that he doesn't intend to cooperate with us... or he assumes that most who would gather here have already forsaken the Path of Dusk. Even if they come, they couldn't gain any teammates."

"...So does that mean, Detective Sir, you had already thought we would come here?"

Lulu couldn't help but whisper, "Then if 'Bone Sculptor' Sir doesn't come... are you planning for the three of us to team up with Sir Knight?"

"Actually, in my plan, it was supposed to include 'Knight' among the three of us meeting here. Not you."

Sherlock's expression was cold, "You being with Fox is an unexpected scenario."

"Although I have no objection to the Transcendents of the Path of Beauty—I must say, if you were to appear alone without 'Fox' by your side, you definitely wouldn't have thought to come to the entrance of the Pelican Bar for the rendezvous."

"...Ooh."

Lulu let out a small wail.

The voluptuous and beautiful woman showed a lost expression for a moment, like that of a young girl.

Because she knew, Mr. Sherlock was right.

"There's more to it than that," Aiwass suddenly said, "It's not just because he knows he won't meet any teammates if he comes here."

Sherlock looked over with some surprise.

The boy's voice was young, but his tone mature and cold, encouraging in a genuinely interested way, "Do tell?"

"You have been quite concerned about 'Bone Sculptor's' cane. Honorable Apostle has said that the only items allowed in the ritual are 'handmade' Extraordinary Items of one's own making—meaning his cane is not just an ordinary staff but a creation of the Path of Dusk. But this is his first advanced ritual, which means he would have just stepped onto the Path of Dusk. I suspect his cane is an Extraordinary Item made from human bone."

"To be precise, it's made from a completely detached spine. Female, between eighteen and twenty-six or twenty-seven years old. No signs of heavy physical labor, no significant evidence of exercise. But she must have often worked or studied at a desk. Also a slight hunchback."

"She could be a student, painter, or writer. Her background wouldn't be too poor or too rich, likely a local from Glass Island. It's probable that a student who just graduated was lured in. Having just ventured into the Path of Dusk, and already able to create an Extraordinary Item... it suggests he had practiced bone carving or sculpting techniques often before entering the Path of Dusk, already having a good grasp of crafting Extraordinary Items."

"That is to say, his other identity is most likely among the Path of Balance, Path of Beauty, or Transcendence Path, skilled in crafting Extraordinary Items."